Spock & No1 - Guilt
by Fiorenza-a
Summary: She had been hurt because he had acted or not acted, he was not sure which had been the cause, but of the fault he was certain: it was his.
1. Chapter 1 - Spock & No1 - Guilt

Spock was distraught. He was also Vulcan and the only person who might have discerned the turmoil in his heart was the woman whose broken body he now held in his arms.

They had beamed down to the planet approximately forty-eight hours previously. They were on a three day survey mission. The Enterprise had warped out of orbit almost immediately and would not be back for another twenty-seven hours. She had to live for those twenty-seven hours.

Initially things had gone well. It was an uncharted planet. The ship's sensors had picked up evidence of sentient civilisations throughout its three continents and myriad islands. There had been nothing to suggest that these people had any inkling of peoples from other worlds so they, and another four survey teams, had been beamed down to selected uninhabited areas. Each team had consisted of two people and Spock had been gratified when the ship's No.1 had chosen him to be the second on her team. He had correctly viewed it as a commendation.

He was also human enough to be glad of the time alone together. She was the one unexpected, wondrous gift that the universe had bestowed upon him. He still marvelled at this presence in his life. He hadn't realised there had been emptiness until it was filled and now his only fear was that one day she would be taken from him. Neither death nor disgrace came close to this one fear, that the emptiness would return and that now he would know it for what it was and be lonely.

They shared above all else a belief that logic and reason provided the only path to enlightenment for a rational mind. Consequently they worked well and efficiently together. Other members of the crew beamed down in similar circumstances may have wasted time walking together, talking together, loving together, but they did not. There was work to do. They understood this and each other and nothing more was necessary.

Theirs was to be a preliminary report, depending on its recommendations there might follow a full survey. The Enterprise might even be asked to conduct it, but for now all that was required were the usual basic answers. Was the water safe, was the flora safe, the fauna safe? Microbial analysis, soil analysis, atmospheric analysis. There was no reason for the ship to remain in orbit. Captain Pike's judgement that the rest of the crew would benefit from some leave on the nearest starbase had been sound. This should not have happened. And haunting him now was the growing apprehension that it need not have happened, if it had not been for him.


	2. Chapter 2 - Spock & No1 - Guilt

They had spent two days collecting and analysing samples together. They had begun compiling their report together. They had debated their findings together. And, at the end of their mission, they would settle on their recommendations together. Spock did not understand why human beings so very rarely recognised this kind of intimacy. Two minds joined in a quest for knowledge and understanding.

The part of the world assigned to them was an arid place, fine sandy soil, stubby trees and scrub. No natural shelter, but they had artificial shelters, equipment and supplies from the ship. They hadn't identified any significant aquifer, there appeared to be no significant presence of ground water at all. However, there was a fast flowing river in a deep rocky gulley about half a mile from their encampment. They had taken some sampling equipment and headed off together. He had been eager to prove himself to his superior officer, to make her proud of her protégé. He had scrambled down the steep side of the gulley with an almost reckless haste, she had followed behind, more seasoned, more wary. He had wandered some way along the river bank, looking for a suitable vantage from which to take samples and a little shade for them to work in. This heat was nothing compared to his Vulcan home world, but he knew she would appreciate some respite from it. It was then that his acutely sensitive hearing had picked up the sound of micro-shearing in the rocks close to her.

Instantly galvanised, he sprinted back towards the sound. He was moving faster than most non-Vulcan races would have been able to, closing the distance between them at literally super human speed. But it wasn't enough. The rockfall had been instantaneous, ricocheting from the uneven gulley walls and bouncing up from the ground, overwhelming her own remarkable reflexes. The dust was still settling around him as he dropped to his knees at her side. She lay battered and bloody, tangled in the rocks.

She was still breathing and, although her uniform was spattered in blood, she didn't appear to be bleeding significantly. Gingerly he ran his hands over her body, checking for signs of injury. It was a body he knew as well as his own and he believed any anomaly would be obvious to him. His investigations led him to conclude that she had badly fractured her leg. He also believed she had broken her arm in two places and possibly also her shoulder blade. He also found a wound in her hair, above her ear and deduced that most of the blood on her uniform had come from that.

The fractures concerned him but he was aware that people had survived such injuries for days, it was the injury to her head that unnerved him. Trauma to the brain should be treated immediately. This had been drummed into him on Vulcan, at the Academy, by the Enterprise's own Dr Boyce. He knew why too, he was a scientist, he understood enough basic biology to know the dangers but not enough, he reflected bitterly, to help her.

He stayed kneeling beside her, his eyes clouding with tears. He wiped them away savagely with the sleeve of his uniform, partly and logically because they affected his vision and partly and savagely because he was Vulcan and the shame of them was more than he could bear.

She would have understood if she had seen them, would have had the words to make him see the precious nature of his dual heritage. She loved all of him, valued all of him equally, even those shameful aspects, like his tears. To her he was a whole and undivided being, uniquely Spock. There was no part of him that was ugly to her, as it was ugly to himself, she saw honesty, kindness, intellect, courage where he saw only pretence, shame, inadequacy. He was proud yes, but even humans recognised the failing in this. She had been hurt because he had acted or not acted, he was not sure which had been the cause, but of the fault he was certain: it was his.

He could not leave her here tangled amongst the rocks, but he was uncertain about moving her. The fractures would be unstable, the pain considerable, there was risk of further injury. He considered lifting her, he was strong, she was not heavy. He had lifted her many times before, in her quarters, in his, as they had played together with the innocence of children and the knowingness of adults. He had carried her to his bed or to hers, she had laughed throwing her arms about him, kissing his neck, his face, his ears. Happy to be led and not leading. She kissed his ears, it still astounded him that she did that unbidden. They were the thing that most marked him out as alien, different, not of her species and yet she found them neither repellent nor did she fetishise them. They were simply his ears as hers were rounded. As he was simply himself. Her love unconditional.

He weighed the options carefully and logically as was right and decided there were no satisfactory answers. He could not leave her here, broken in the rocks, prey to insects and possibly larger carnivores. He could not take her with him, the risk of further injury was too great. He could not do nothing. In the distance of his future there would be a human, a friend, a man who would simply say ''Spock'' and make him see that he was not alone and that he must not take upon himself the burden of all that was ill in the universe. But that future was years distant, unknown and unknowable, he was here, this was now and he was alone; there was no one else to carry the burden.

''I'm sorry'' he said, though she couldn't hear it. His heart was broken and so was he.


	3. Chapter 3 - Spock & No1 - Guilt

In the end he decided that he must leave her, return to their encampment, pick up the medical supplies all survey missions carried. Starfleet was scrupulous in its regulations regarding the safety of its personnel, it might call upon them to sacrifice their lives, but it never sought to squander them. He would need shelter, lighting, food and water. He climbed out of the gulley and started to run, he did not jog or pace himself, this was a sprint. He ran because this was a race, he ran because he was Vulcan and even in this heat he could, he ran because the woman he loved needed him to.

He reached their encampment breathless, he grabbed the supplies he needed, bundling them up into a pack and slinging them over his back, securing them there. Then he ran back, blood pumping, muscles protesting, driven on by his fear for her. She was still unconscious when he returned, she hadn't moved. He tore at the medical supplies, finding field splints and dressings and pain relief. Putting her back together again as well as his training allowed.

Then he turned his attention to the shelter, setting it up where he judged no further fall of rocks would reach it. He made up a bed for her. Then he returned to her side, kneeling beside her. Gently he took her in his arms, tender of her splinted limbs, mindful of her other injuries, praying to his deities and hers that she would not be harmed by this. He had been the cause of enough harm, surely the universe would heed him now and keep him from blundering further. He carried her to the bed and set her down with care. She would be cooler here, the shelters were flimsy but efficient. They had not had a chance to test the water so he had brought some from the camp. He set a bottle near her bed in case she woke and settled down to keep vigil.

He was a Vulcan, he did not need sleep as humans needed sleep, even under stress, even in distress, he would watch over her every hour until the Enterprise returned. Willing her to live, not to bleed or fit or die. Hoping her eyes would open and stay open, that her injured brain would not seek refuge in coma.

He sat as the large yellow orb of the star that lit this world sank below the horizon, as the dust particles and other impurities in the atmosphere caught its fading light and turned the sky orange and pink and purple. He sat as the gathering twilight turned everything deepest blue, then to darkest black scattered with the light of a thousand other stars warming thousands of other worlds. He sat through the long night, watching over her, blaming himself, punishing himself, lonely and alone. She did not stir, she made no sound. Her brain was hurt. Her dazzling, disciplined, logical brain was damaged and he had damaged it. He sat as the bright yellow star slowly returned, burning the air with its heat. He sat as the small flying creatures of this world began their morning chorus; it was beautiful. She had thought it beautiful, waking him so they could listen to it together. It had been beautiful then, but it was melancholy now. He was melancholy now. He sat as the bright day warmed, full of the promise of life but it was an empty promise for she was not able to share in it.

He reached for his communicator, setting it to automatic. The Enterprise would be returning soon, his vigil would be over. But not his disgrace. Not his pain. Not his unbearable sadness. These would remain as they should. He had hurt the woman he loved; what mitigation was there for that? He sat staring at her beautiful face, it was beautiful to him as he was beautiful to her. How had they found each other in all this vast universe? How much better might it have been if they had not, for she was only broken because of him. She was only dying because of him. How much better that they had never met, that she was safe and well and whole?

His communicator bleeped its alert and he contacted the ship informing them of the emergency, of his stupidity, of her injuries. They were beamed up immediately, she was rushed to sickbay, he returned to his duties. He did not visit her, he did not ask Dr Boyce for updates, he did not tell anyone that he walked in sadness. He was Vulcan and Vulcans did not do these things, he ate because it was logical to eat, he slept because it was logical to sleep. He had nightmares alone in his bed because he was human and he told no one because he was not.


	4. Chapter 4 - Spock & No1 - Guilt

Now he sat alone in his small cabin. He was reading, his eyes had been told to read, but they would not comprehend the meaning of the words. His mind would not help them as it played and replayed the fall of rocks and her broken body, his guilt and his shame. The intercom sounded and a voice ordered him to sickbay. He acknowledged and dutifully obeyed.

When he got to sickbay a nurse directed him to a room with four beds, three of which were unoccupied. In the fourth was a woman, the woman he had learned to call his own, or at least she had been his once, he knew he could have no claim on her now. He stood, his hands behind his back, waiting. ''Come here my love'' she said.

He hesitated and she called him again. He moved to stand near her. She reached out and took his arm, tugging it from behind his back and brought his hand to her lips so that she could kiss it, then she nestled her cheek in it and said ''I have missed you.''

He bowed his head in shame. ''I hurt you'' he said ''I thought I had killed you.''

''I suspected it'' she said ''when you did not come to see me.'' He was ashamed again. She thought him a coward. She knew better than this and would have told him so, had she known it was necessary. Instead she pulled at him so that he would sit by her bed and she could hold his hand. ''You are not to blame'' she said.

''I was not with you, I should have been with you'' he said unable to meet her eyes.

''You were with me'' she said, her smile full of sadness at the pain evident in him ''you were with me for the two days before I was injured and you were with me all the while I was injured.''

''I left you. I needed supplies'' he said. She must know the truth of his perfidy.

''Medical supplies, food and shelter so that I might survive'' she said ''my darling did you think I would blame you for that?''

''I hurt you'' he said again. Did she not understand? Must he make her understand? He could barely endure the pain of losing her; must he also bear the agony of making her understand why she must go? He was numb. It was more than he could do. He had no strength left in him with which to do it.

''You saved me'' she said, holding his hand with both of hers, as if to stop him slipping away. ''This is not a life without risk. I did not choose a safe existence. I chose to explore, to face the unexpected, to seek out new worlds and sometimes to be hurt by them. And when I was hurt, castaway on an alien world, the man I chose to share this life was with me. You were with me. You made the difference. You gave me something to fight for. I wanted to come back to you. It is not your fault. It was never your fault. It may happen again. You cannot protect me from my life, but you can be there when I get hurt. You were there when I got hurt. Do you not understand my dear sweet darling that this is a good thing?''

He lifted his head and she let go of his hand to reach out for his face. He reacted immediately moving closer so that she would not have to strain to touch him. She smiled. She loved him. She kissed him. It had always been that simple for her.

END


End file.
